


Hello Darkness My Old Friend

by Browneyesparker



Series: Bughead Stories [10]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Addiction, Autumn feels, Character Death, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, New Hampshire, Rehab, Riverdale, Romance, TW: drug use, bughead - Freeform, tw: alcohol abuse, varchie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-01-15 20:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12328203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browneyesparker/pseuds/Browneyesparker
Summary: Bughead meet in a celebrity rehab. Pop singer Betty for her addiction to Adderall/cocaine as part of her needing to be happy and perfect, actor/writer Jughead with the alcoholism he inhereted from his father. Can they help each other through dark times?***NOW COMPLETE!***





	1. Chapter One: The Sound of Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knittersrevolt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittersrevolt/gifts).



**Chapter 1 The Sound of Silence**

_“Pop sensation Betty Cooper is making headlines again and it’s not because she’s releasing her highly anticipated sophomore album. Last week the young starlet was found unconscious in her dressing room after playing Madison Square Garden. She was rushed to Mount Sinai Hospital where she was attended to. The 27-year-old songstress was released early yesterday morning. We’ve reached out to her publicity team for comments—”_

Betty’s manager Louie Quimby switched the television off, crossed his arms, and frowned.

“Your little stunt last night is all over the Internet and in every major publication this morning,” he told her. “You made the front page of the _New York Times_. What was it this time? Coke, Uppers? Both?”

Betty slouched further down into Louie’s custom made leather chair and curled her fingers into the palm of her hands. “It was just a little something to take the edge off, Lou.”

“A little something to take the edge off?” Louie repeated, shaking his head. “Betty for better or worse, whether you like it or not, girls and young women look up to you. It’s a big responsibility and I’m sorry but you have to shoulder it. Do you think Taylor Swift combines drugs and pills when she needs to take the edge off?”

“Why are you comparing me to Taylor _Freaking_ Swift?” Betty snapped, standing up and going to look out of the windows overlooking Time Square. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am not Taylor Freaking Swift! Who cares what she does when she needs to take the edge off!”

“ _You_ should care!” Louie replied. “Join a gym, go for a run, do something other than harm yourself! The record label is threatening to cancel the release of your next album if you don’t get your act together.”

Betty whirled around to look at him. “Canceling my next album? They wouldn’t do that!”

“They would and they can!” Louie insisted. “They’ve already started damage control and it’s costing them a small fortune. I hate to tell you this but you’re a liability, not an asset.”

“It’s not like what I did was that bad!” Betty protested.

“You passed out from taking too many drugs!” Louie reminded her. “The next time it could be worse, you could _die_!”

“What do you want me to do?” Betty asked impatiently.

Louie softened and sat down, motioning for Betty to do the same. “You have _two_ options, dear. The first one is the record label will pull the plug on your album, drop you and you’ll become a one-hit wonder before you maybe fade into obscurity. Or you could go to rehab.”

 _“Rehab?”_ Betty echoed, her nails bit into her skin on their own accord. “I don’t need rehab, Lou! It’s not like I have an addiction or something!”

Louie signed and leaned forward, reaching for his keyboard, he typed something into the Internet browser and clicked enter before spinning the computer around for Betty to see. “You might not think you do but look at all these incidents, honey. Flubbed lyrics, forgotten concerts, the time you didn’t show up for your interview with Ellen because you went to a mid-afternoon party to get something to relax before the show. Some of your friends have been arrested for possession of cocaine.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say Chuck Clayton was my _friend_. . .” Betty said, shaking her head. “It was only a few times. A handful of mistakes—”

“Sweetie, you’re like a daughter to me and I would hate to see anything bad happen to you. The world doesn’t need another Amy or Cory. I think you have a long career ahead of you, your new material is going to be a sure-fire hit. Grammy nominations, VMAs, the whole works. I’m begging you Betty. . . _begging_ you to get the help you need.”

Betty clenched her fists tighter, her knuckles turned white, she could feel the blood on her fingertips. “So, it’s my career or rehab. Is that what you’re saying?”

Louie nodded. “Basically, yes. If you hate it, we’ll look for another alternative. But I want you to have a chance. The next time you might not wake up or your decision making might be impaired and you might hurt yourself or somebody else.”

Betty sighed and released her fingers, reached for the Kleenex box on Louie’s desk, discreetly wiping the blood away. She would say yes, she always said yes even if it wasn’t good for her. But she couldn’t risk her career and maybe risking her life wouldn’t be such a good thing either.

She stood up. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it!”

“Terrific! Your reservations at the rehab facility have already been made and I had Em go and pack your suitcase.”

“That key was for emergencies only! I want it back!” Betty said, squeezing the tissue closer to her open cuts.  

“I think this qualifies as an emergency!” Louie replied as he stood up and put his blazer on. “Come on, I’m going to drive you to New Hampshire.”

Betty frowned. “ _New Hampshire_? Why _New Hampshire_!?”

“It’s far enough away from New York City that you can’t just run away here on a whim, it’s far enough away from your dealers and all your friends,” Louie told her as he helped her into her coat. “Also, it’s one the of the best celebrity rehab facilities in the United States. I think you’ll do nicely there.”

**.**

Louie’s wife Em was waiting for them in the parking garage. She smiled encouragingly at Betty when she saw her, reaching out for her.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she told her gently as Louie opened the backseat door. “You’ll see.”

Betty didn’t tell her that it didn’t feel like _everything_ would be _okay_. Everything felt like it was spinning more out of control and all she could think about was her compact filled with Adderall in her purse. The stash of cocaine in an empty tube of _Sunkissed_ by Tarte lipstick in her makeup case.

Just something to take the edge off. That’s the only reason she needed it. . .

Instead of coming up with a creative way to self-medicate in front of Em and Louie she got in the car, buckled up and put her earbuds in. Music was the next best thing to getting high.  The perfect lyric, a good symphony, or a lush soundtrack usually did wonders to improve her mood.

She pressed play on her favorite classical music playlist on Spotify and tried to get swept away by _Haydn’s Concerto for Cello and Orchestra_. But nothing could distract her. She felt like she was being led off to her doom.

Rehab was the worst possible thing that could happen to her.

Her mother was going to kill her when she found out, when she saw the headlines and the Twitter blasts, the blurbs on the morning news.

Coopers didn’t go to rehab. They dealt with their problems quietly. Betty remembered the time she had asked Alice if she could have counseling sessions with their priest. She’d been appalled, she hadn’t wanted her daughter to air her issues to the man they had to see at every mass (like they were faithful church goers and not Christmas and Easters only kind of family). She’d sent her to see a psychiatrist two hours away from their home in Upstate New York so nobody they knew would see her and make assumptions about what was going on.

She shook the memory away and turned to look out the window, watching as the skyscrapers turned into miles and miles of trees.

**.**

It was getting dark when they got to the Riverdale Rehabilitation Facility. Louie ushered Betty inside to the reception desk where she signed papers and was directed to a nurse to go through her things.

Everything passed in a blur as they signed her in and went through her belongings, frowning at her when they found her cocaine and adderall. She didn’t say anything to them, she was silently defiant as they confiscated the drugs, her makeup, her razors. . . anything she could harm herself with. After they were done going through her possessions, they let her say goodbye to Louie and Em.

Louie put his hands on both her shoulders and looked at her seriously. “We’ll visit when we can. _This_ is for the best, Betty. For your own good.”

“Lou, my mom. . .” Betty shook her head as she took his hand and grasped it tightly. “You know she’s not going to be happy with me when she finds out that I’m in rehab. She’s barely talked to me since she came to see me at the hospital last week. I don’t know how she’ll react to this. I don’t want to find out.”

“I’ll handle it,” Louie promised.

“Be brave,” Em said, giving Betty a hug. “Be well, try and take care of yourself. Really listen to the other people here and try to learn from them. We’re rooting for you, honey.”

When they were gone and she was left alone with a nurse named Susan, who was picking up her suitcase and telling her to follow her to the room she’d be staying in while she was there.

On the way up the stairs, Susan listed the rules. Betty nodded along, barely listening. She was suddenly exhausted.

“You have a roommate,” Susan said, pushing the door open.

A short Latina girl was sprawled on the bed, chatting on the phone. “No, you hang up first! No, you hang up first! _Archie_! No, I love you more! I love you more! Yes I do. Yes! Oh, there’s somebody here. I’ve got to go! Talk to you later. ‘Bye!”

“Miss Lodge, this is your new roommate, Betty Cooper,” Susan said.

“I know who she is!” Veronica squealed as she jumped up and tossed her phone aside. “I love your music!!! I can’t believe you’re actually _my_ roommate!”

“This is Veronica Lodge,” Susan told Betty.

“Lifetime movie star! In case you didn’t know,” Veronica added. “What are you in for? I took one too many crazy pills on the set of my Hallmark Christmas movie, they had to halt production.”

“Miss Lodge,” Susan said wearily. “I’m sure Miss Cooper would like to get settled in before dinner. Why don’t you just leave her alone for now? You’ll have plenty of time to get each other later. When she’s ready, you can take her to the dining room.”

“Okay,” Veronica answered agreeably as Betty fell backwards on her own bed and covered her eyes with her arm.

**TBC. . .**

**.**


	2. Chapter 2 Shiny Happy People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to Myterribletwenties, jandjsalmon, and freepeople for the reviews!

**.**

**Chapter 2 Shiny Happy People**

“So, everybody, this is Betty Cooper!” Veronica announced when they sat down at the dining room table. “Betty, this is everybody.”

“We know who she is, Ronnie!” A good-looking, young Asian man said as he reached for some garlic bread. “Reggie Mantle, I play baseball for the Red Sox.”

“You pitched a great season last year,” Betty answered as she sat down, going through the motions. Feigning friendliness, meaningless chit-chat. She could make meaningless chit-chat.

“We almost clinched!” Reggie added proudly, puffing out his chest.

“Baseball,” Veronica groaned. “All you ever talk about is _baseball_. I wish you’d talk about something else, Reggie!”

Reggie smirked. “Feel free to change the subject anytime, babe. We can talk about Troy Bolton some more if you’d like.”

“His name is Archie!” Veronica reminded him. “Archie Andrews. He was nominated for a Grammy, if you don’t remember.”

A stunning, dark-haired boy slurped up spaghetti and eyed Betty. “FP Jones the III,” he said. “We’ve met before.”

Betty frowned. “I think I’d remember if we’d met before,” she replied.

“It was at an after party at the Academy's this year,” he reminded her. “You got mad at me because I spilled Coke and rum all over your custom made Oscar De La Renta dress and then we made out.”

Reggie laughed.

“I don’t remember any of this!” Betty claimed.

“Of course you don’t! You were high and I was drunk.”

Betty was uncertain, she’d never been high enough to the point of forgetting things. Of course, some of her memories were a drug-hazed blur but she was familiar enough with FP Jones the III’s work as an actor and a writer to know if she’d ever met him in person or not.

She was kind of a fan. She was more than a fan, she was a devotee. She even owned the one and only season of his 12 episode CW show.

“Don’t mind Jughead,” Veronica told her. “He has a sardonic sense of humor. It’s his way of relating or something.”

Jughead rolled his eyes and swirled more pasta on his fork. “We really did meet,” he insisted.

Betty leaned back in her chair and thought back to February. Her cousin, Cheryl, had given her three Adderall before she’d walked the red carpet. She remembered feeling invincible, like she could have done anything that night. Including singing her Oscar nominated song in front of all those people, including the viewers watching at home.

She’d lost the statute to Taylor Freaking Swift (who had written the songs for the newest Disney movie, the theme song and the love song had both been nominated for awards). Her loss had resulted in popping another pill before the Vanity Fair party.

Taylor had been there too and she had been nice and beautiful when she’d come up to tell her how much she had loved her song. They’d chatted for a little bit and then when Betty had turned around to walk away. . .

She groaned. Jughead had been there and he _had_ been drunk. They had gotten into an argument after he’d splashed alcohol all over her dress and somebody had gotten it on film.

“Wait a second,” she said. “What happened to the video? Why didn’t TMZ or some other sleazy website plaster it all over their websites?”

“It’s somewhere in the depths of the Internet,” Jughead answered. “My publicist paid the person who recorded the video a huge amount of money and bought them the latest iPhone to get them to delete it.”

“And they actually did it?”

Jughead shrugged. “And _I_ thought I was the one with the trust problems. It’s been eight months, have you seen it anywhere? I’m guessing no since you actually forgot that it happened.”

“This is fascinating,” Veronica interrupted. “Really, it is. But maybe we should change the subject.”

“Why? We’re all addicts here,” Jughead said. “We don’t have to always change the subject just because you don’t want to talk about something.”

“I’m not the one ashamed of my addiction. . .” Veronica trailed off when she saw Susan looking at them and started to eat a meatball.

“So, Cooper, what brings you to fine old New Hampshire?” Reggie asked with interest. “You don’t seem like the type of girl who fits the description of an addict.”

“What does that even mean anyways? She doesn’t fit the description of an addict?” Jughead interrupted. “The stereotypes of people who use changed a long time ago, Reg.”

“You could do a Google search and find out,” Betty added. “The reasons I’m here are all over the Internet at this point. Besides, I thought you knew who I was.”

“I know your music. I never knew you had addictions.”

“It’s not an addiction!” Betty protested.

“Reggie doesn’t really read,” Jughead said at the same time as her.

“They don’t let us get online,” Veronica answered. “We have as little contact with the outside world as possible.”

“You were talking to somebody when I got here though,” Betty pointed out.

“Yeah because we _earn_ a certain amount of hours a week to talk to family and friends,” Reggie explained. “But the reception here sucks and the Wi-Fi is password protected. If we’re _very_ good, we can get online once a week to check our emails.”

Veronica took a sip of water and arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “They explained this all to you when you got here.”

“I guess I wasn’t paying attention,” Betty confessed.

“That’ll happen a lot the first week you’re here,” Jughead answered. “It’s a little surreal, almost like you’re dreaming it. Everything will go by in a blur and you’ll keep thinking to yourself, _I don’t have a problem, that’s Ernest Hemingway or Jack Kerouac or my dad. Not_ ME _! I can stop anytime I want to._ When reality finally sinks in, the withdrawals start and take it from me that is _not_ a walk in the park.”

“So, I’m taking it that none of us are here voluntarily?” Betty asked.

“I’m here voluntarily!” Reggie said. “Well that and I was almost suspended for doping before games. But I’m here mostly because the only high I want is winning the World Series or seeing the way my dad’s face lights up every time I go up to the pitcher’s mound.”

“My mom forced me to come here,” Jughead replied but that was all he offered, there wasn’t anything else.

“We haven’t been able to get anything out of him. Not even during group therapy,” Veronica whispered. “You should eat something, Betty. The spaghetti is one of the best meals here.”

“Which isn’t saying much.”

Veronica shot Archie a look. “This coming from the guy who literally will eat anything and everything put in front of him.”

“I’m a growing boy!”

“You’re 27,” Veronica retorted. “I don’t think you have much more growing to do.”

Betty propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands, doing her best to tune out everybody around her.

**.**

After dinner was over, everybody went to the living room to watch TV. But Betty went back to her room, she could hear everybody downstairs shouting out the answers to _Jeopardy!_ because Susan had told her to keep the door open since she was going to be alone.

She reached for one of the composition notebooks and black Bic pens that Em had packed for her, fully intent on journaling. She turned to the first page and ran a finger over the unblemished college-ruled lines. A fresh start for her secrets or her song lyrics.

She uncapped her pen and tried to think of what to say, something to write. There was one line that she couldn’t quite get out of her head.

In neat, careful penmanship she wrote it down.

_I am in hell. . ._

She would figure out what it was later.

**.**

“Time to wake up!” Veronica chirped from the bed beside her the next morning.

Betty groaned. “I thought this was celebrity rehab.”

“It _is_ ,” Veronica answered. “There are Tempura Pedic mattresses, satellite cable, a flat screen TV and we get our own bathrooms. But other than that, it’s kind of just like regular rehab. You know everyone who comes here has a 99 percent chance of recovery and life-long sobriety? Because they treat us like were normal, not famous people.”

“I’m not an addict,” Betty said quietly.

“Huh?”

“I am _not_ an addict!” Betty repeated, sitting up and throwing her covers off.  

Veronica’s eyes widened but she didn’t reply as she pulled a string of pearls out of a black, velvet jewelry box and snapped them on. “Okay.”

“You’re not going to argue with me?”

“What good would _that_ do?” Veronica asked as she started to moisturize and prime her face. “You’re the one who has to accept you have a problem, I can’t force you to believe it.”

Betty sighed and started to go through her suitcase, her hands were trembling. She pulled out jeans, a sweater, ankle socks, and mint green Converse sneakers. “So, how long have you been here?”

“Two months,” Veronica answered. “I have thirty more days to go and then I guess I’ll mostly be on my own. I think I can do it, I have a support system already set up and I’m going to start looking for Narcotic Anon meetings in Canada. I have to finish the movie I was filming when this all happened.”

“They stopped production for three months for you?” Betty asked. “Aren’t Hallmark stars a dime a dozen?”

“I will have you know, I am a Hallmarkie _darling_!” Veronica replied.

Betty nodded, she was having trouble focusing again. She thought about her lipstick full of Adderall, the nurse had probably flushed it by now. . . she just needed one pill. One to make everything come into focus. She couldn’t function without them.

(It didn’t mean she was addicted, she’d been using Adderall off and on for ADHD for _years_. It was for medicinal purposes!)

She blinked a few times, Veronica was still talking a mile a minute. Betty couldn’t really make out what she was saying. It was something about Ryan Paevey and the time he had played her brother in a movie called _A Point of Danger_ on the Hallmark Movies and Mysteries channel.

“What does a girl have to do to get a shower around here?” Betty asked as she grabbed white, cotton briefs and her bra.

“As long as you don’t have anything to harm yourself, you’re free to shower whenever you want,” Veronica replied. “But I’d hurry, it’s almost time for breakfast and they expect us all to be in the dining room to eat. It’s another one of those rules they told you about last night.”

“Got it,” Betty answered as she slipped into their bathroom with her clothes and toiletries bag. She turned the water on hot and got under the shower, pajamas and all. She covered her mouth with a deep purple facecloth and screamed and screamed, hoping nobody would be able to hear her over the stream cascading down over her.

She went downstairs a little while later like nothing had ever happened, her wet hair in a neat ponytail. She had been a little out of it the day before but she wouldn’t show them any weakness today. She’d be the perfect girl next door this morning. The cheerleader she was in high school, senior class president. The mega selling pop star with legions of devoted fans, who she stopped to take pictures with and sign anything when they stopped her on the street.

She could be that girl here.

She could try. . .

“How are you feeling?” Veronica asked, interjecting into her thoughts.

“Fine,” Betty lied easily as she sat down, her whole body was shaking now and she couldn’t even think about food without a wave of nausea washing over her. The smell of bacon was doing nothing to tempt her appetite.

“Do you want some coffee? It’s the only legally addictive stimulant they let us have!” Reggie joked, trying to make her feel more comfortable.

“We just saw _You’ve Got Mail_ at the Twilight last week,” Jughead explained as he poured maple syrup over a stack of pancakes. “Reggie’s fluent in movie quotes and baseball stats.”

“It’s true!” Reggie replied cheerfully as he chugged orange juice. “Gee, I wish I didn’t have to sit the Series out this season.”

“Next season, you’ll be back and better than ever!” Veronica promised, patting him on the arm reassuringly. “The fans are forgiving. They’d be more upset if you died of an overdose—”

Betty found herself tuning them out again instead of trying to be sympathetic and supportive like she had resolved to do earlier. All she wanted to do was bolt, the voices surrounding her were loud and agitating like New York City traffic after a long day. Like the AM frequency that she could hear in her head.

She just needed some peace. . .

Betty got up from the table and bolted, going outside as fast as she could.

She gulped in the fresh October air and gripped the porch railing, trying to find balance.

“It gets better.”

She turned around and realized that Jughead had followed her outside. He approached her carefully and took her by the arm, leading her to a wooden rocking chair. He eased her into it and knelt down in front of her, watching her as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Nice and easy,” he told her, reaching for something in his cardigan pocket. He pulled out a lighter and a pack of Camels, he stuck it between his lips, lit it, inhaled and then held it out to her as he exhaled. “It helps.

 _“N-n-n-o!!”_ Betty managed. “I-I don’t s-s-smoke.”

Huffing and puffing on his cigarette, Jughead took her hand and rubbed circles in it. His touch was gentle, kind. . . calming. She tried to focus on her breathing, on being in the moment like her first therapist had told her to when she’d been in middle school.

“I’m trying to quit,” Jughead joked. “But I can’t seem to get rid of all my vices.”

Somebody poked their head outside of the door to check on them. “Everything okay out here?”

“Just the usual first day stuff, Sandra,” Jughead answered, standing up. “It’s the detox stuff. I guess I’ll let you check her out.”

He squeezed Betty’s shoulder as he passed her and smiled at her encouragingly.

The woman, a petite brunette woman with a shaggy haircut came over to her and looked at her warmly. “Hi Betty, I’m Sandra Cummings. I’m your nurse, how are you doing today?”

“You want the truth?” Betty asked as she finally drew a deep breath.

“Telling the truth _is_ encouraged,” Sandra answered.

“I feel pretty crappy!” Betty replied.

Sandra helped her get to her feet and led her back inside. “Well, you’re probably detoxing right now. You’re going to feel like crap.”

Betty sighed, wanting to insist that she wasn’t actually addicted to drugs. She was just used to taking Adderall every day since middle school and she didn’t know how to function without her daily dose. Except that sounded like something an addict would say. So, she kept her mouth shut.

Sandra did a general exam when they got to her office and asked her when she’d taken drugs the last time.

“Two days ago,” Betty answered truthfully, she had taken it the night before to try and get some sleep, gulping Nyquil straight from the bottle to try and help her settle down after all the Adderall she had taken before having dinner with her mother.

Louie had summoned her to his office yesterday to lecture her about her drug use and to ship her off to rehab. Between waking up and going to see him, she hadn’t been able to find an opportunity to take anything.

“We’re going to have to take a drug test, just to make sure,” Sandra told her. “Just to make sure, people who are addicted lie sometimes.”

Betty sighed. “But I’m telling the truth.”

“We have to check just to make sure. They didn’t check you out last night when you were admitted?”

Betty frowned. “To be honest, I don’t really remember what happened last night. Everything’s a blur.”

“Yeah, that happens,” Sandra said, sitting down. “Everything’s confusing and if somebody’s making you come here, you’re usually in denial that you belong here. . . that you need help. It’s okay though. You’ll have a breakthrough eventually.”

Betty doubted it. “Can I go now?” she asked.

Sandra nodded. “Go on, I wouldn’t want you to be late for your first group therapy session. Don’t feel any pressure to talk right away. Listening is encouraged more than anything today.”

Betty didn’t tell Sandra that she really didn’t have much to say.

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here’s chapter 2. I know I said I’d have one-shots over the next few weeks but this was just sitting on my hard drive, so I decided to share it with you. I hope you will leave me your thoughts! Sandra Cummings is a subtle nod to Sandra Bullock in 28 Days, Susan is a nod to Winona Ryder in Girl, Interrupted. Hallmarkies is actually a thing, it’s what Hallmark Channel calls their fans.
> 
> Until Next Time!


	3. Chapter 3 Perfect Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-Outs:  
> jandjsalmon, youmademeabeliever, and Diokomen

**.**

**Chapter 3 Perfect Places**

A few days after she’d checked in, Cheryl came to visit her in rehab. When she saw her cousin, she ran up to her and hugged her.  “Oh Betts! How are you!? I was positively worried when Lou Lou told us you were in rehab! I didn’t think using it recreationally had turned into a problem for you!” she pulled away and took Betty’s hand, gripping it tightly and passing her a Sharpie.

“It isn’t a problem!” Betty answered, rolling her eyes. “What’s this for?”

“Just a little something for when you need to take the edge off!” Cheryl answered, winking at her. “So, can you get out of here for a little bit? We rented a cabin a hotel room the street and we’re dying to see you!”

“I don’t know, people are pretty much watching me all the time right now. . .”

“Come on!” Cheryl pouted and giving her puppy dog eyes. “We’ll be gone and back before anybody even realizes you’ve disappeared! You don’t have to drink or do drugs or anything. We just want a chance to see you because we know it’s going to be a while before we’re all together again!”

Betty sighed, she was always careful to follow the rules and stay out of trouble. The last thing she wanted was to do something she wasn’t supposed to and have the facility report it back to Louie. But she hadn’t ever been able to say no to Cheryl either.

“Just for a little bit!” She finally agreed.

“Perfect! JJ’s waiting for us and he has the car running so we can make a quick getaway!” Cheryl answered, looking around the hallway. “We better hurry before somebody shows up and catches us!”

**.**

There was a party going on when they got to the hotel. The Weekend was playing unironically from speakers on a dresser and there were drugs

“Look who we found!” Jason announced as he ushered Betty and Cheryl inside the room.

“We rescued her from jail!” Cheryl added.

Lemon Hart, Betty’s guitarist rushed up to her, a bottle of Tequila in hand. “Betty! How are you doing!? Everyone’s saying you got 90 days!”

“She did!” Cheryl answered. “We just broke her out for a little while to visit us!

“Here! Have a drink!” Lemon said, pouring some of the alcohol into a plastic cup and handing it over to her. “You look like you could use one!”

“That’s true though!” Cheryl replied. “They probably got rid of all her drugs her first night there. Not to worry though, JJ and I rectified _that_ little problem. Nobody’s going to suspect a Sharpie’s filled with happy little pills.”

“Well, take a drink!” Lemon urged.

Betty did, downing it one go. She’d never been much for getting drunk but right now, she liked the way the Tequila burned the back of her throat and warmed her veins. She held out her cup and Lemon smiled, pouring some more for her.

Two turned into three and three turned into four mixed with one or two Adderall. By the time Jason told her that she’d had enough and anxiously tried to get her to go back to his car, so he could bring her home, she wasn’t sure how much she’d drank. She was happier than she’d been since she’d checked into rehab.

Cheryl, who was just as high as her, was still better at sneaking in and out of places. She created a distraction while Jason got Betty back to her bedroom.

“Is she okay?” Veronica jumped off her bed to help Jason as they stumbled through the threshold. “What did you do to her? She’s going to be in so much trouble if the staff finds out!”

“You wouldn’t tell anyone, would you?” Jason asked anxiously as he eased Betty into her bed.

“No! I covered for her,” Veronica assured him. “I told them that she was going for a walk in nature. That sort of crap is encouraged here. And who are you?”

“Jason Blossom. I’m Betty’s cousin,” he answered, taking a step backwards. “I have to go now or they’re going to check my sister in as a patient. You’ll make sure she’s okay, right?”

“Of course!” Veronica assured him.

“Thank you!” Jason said. “I’ll be back in a couple days to check in on her.”

Veronica nodded as she watched Betty slowly fall asleep. “Yeah but maybe next time just bring her chocolate and a good book. It’s not fair to her to put her in situations where she’s going to jeopardize her sobriety.”

Jason looked a little helpless and then he disappeared.

**.**

“You can’t replace one bad habit with another one,” Jughead told her as she came out of the bathroom and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she’d been throwing up for a better part of the morning.

Betty, exhausted and hungover, didn’t want to talk to him about it. She pressed her nails into the palms of her hand, a habit that had been happening more and more frequently since she quit taking drugs. “What gives you the right to stand there and judge me?”

“I’m not judging you!” Jughead said quickly. “Trust me! I am in no position to judge. I was just. . . I woke up to you puking and I was concerned.”

Betty pushed past him. “Just because you listened to my album doesn’t mean you know me.”

“I’m not pretending to know who you are!” Jughead protested as he followed her out. “But you know, if you don’t start taking this seriously, they’ll kick you out.”

Betty scraped her hair away from her face and tied it back. “I am taking it seriously. I just. . . I needed a way to escape. This constant noise in my head, the constant need to be. . . to be me.”

Jughead looked at her seriously. “Is that why you do it?”

“Is that why I do _what_? Drugs? I’m hardly going to get into it with you at five-forty-five in the morning! And why should I open up to you? It’s not like you’re an open book, Mr. Closed Off and Sardonic!”

“You don’t talk in group therapy either,” Jughead reminded her.

“I don’t have anything to say!”

“Well, I don’t either! But at least I can admit I have a problem even if it is just to myself!!”

Veronica peeked outside their bedroom door, wrapped up in a deep purple, silk bathrobe. “You two need to quiet down before you get caught,” she cautioned. “Or before you wake up everybody else in the house!”

“Sorry Veronica,” Betty muttered even though she wasn’t very sorry at all. She’d just gotten used to saying it to placate other people over the course of her life. It usually wasn’t effective but it was a hard habit to break after doing it for so long.

When she got back to her room, she realized she’d drawn blood on her hands. She wiped it away on her pajama bottoms and crawled back into bed. She hated hangovers, they were always worse than any low she had ever had.

Veronica came into their room and sat down on the edge of her bed. “For some reason, Jughead has decided he wants to be friends with you. This is what we call _progress_ around here. Up until now, he hasn’t been interested in opening up to anyone.”

“He isn’t opening up to me,” Betty replied, throwing her arm across her eyes.

“He’s still paying attention though,” Veronica told her. “That’s more than he’s done for the rest of us.”

Betty sighed, she didn’t want to talk about it. She was a little curious to why Jughead had seemingly chosen her but Veronica was not one of her girlfriends, she wouldn’t over-analyze anything with her or have heart-to-hearts while they braided each other’s hair or gave each other pedicures while they watched _Clueless_ or _Mean Girls_ during a sleepover.

She wouldn’t talk about it at all.

There wasn’t anything to say.

She never had anything to say.

**.**

If anybody knew what had happened the night before, they didn’t say anything to her about it. Reggie was just as cheerful as usual, talking about the latest movie he and Jughead had gone and seen at the movie theater the night before.

Jughead was sullenly drinking coffee and watching Betty over the rim of his mug. She avoided his gaze and pushed her scrambled eggs around in her ketchup. Her head was still throbbing and she knew the best way to kick her hangover in the butt was by eating a lot. But she wasn’t in the mood.

Veronica was looking back and forth between Betty and Jughead like they were ticking bombs, timed to go off at any second.

Betty wanted to disappear. She thought about the Sharpie marker she’d hidden underneath her underwear and bras and hoped the nurses wouldn’t find them if they did a surprise check-in. She wanted to slip one in her mouth right then.

She stood up abruptly, everybody at the table looked up at her at the same time.

“Are you alright, Betty?” Reggie asked his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Fine!” Betty answered thinly. “I’m. . . I’m just fine.”

“You don’t still feel sick, do you?” Jughead asked, looking concerned in spite of himself.

“I-I’m fine!” Betty replied, bolting.

**.**

She didn’t realize he had followed her as she uncapped the Sharpie and tapped one pill in the palm of her hand. She stared at it.

_Just one more. . ._

_Just one more and then I’ll be done for good. . ._

The pill went flying across the room and Betty realized belatedly that Jughead had hit it out of her hand.

“What are you doing?” Jughead asked as he snatched the marker from her hand and marched to the bathroom. Betty followed him, trying to formulate how she was going to talk him into giving them back to him. She was too late, she watched him as he dumped the pills into the toilet and flushed them, and they swirled down the drain.

“I hate you,” Betty told him.

“I don’t care!” Jughead retorted. “I’m not your father or your manager. Everybody knows what happened to you a couple weeks ago even though we don’t have internet access in this god forsaken place. You were in the hospital because you _overdosed_. Don’t you care?”

Betty felt the sudden urge to slap him, she was seeing stars and her anger was white hot. But she resisted, she was a good girl and there was something in the rules about violent physical contact being frowned upon. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands instead and took a deep breath.

“No!” She answered. “Why do _you_ care so much!?”

“Because I _know_! I _know_!”

Betty frowned. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

One of the nurses, Gwen Ryder, peeked her in head in the door. “You guys should be at breakfast. Is everything okay in here?”

“Everything’s _fine_!” Betty replied. “We were just coming. I was late getting to the dining room, Jughead was just checking on me.”

“Hurry it along!” Gwen said, smiling at them before disappearing.

Betty turned without another word to Jughead and went back to the dining room. He trailed behind her but didn’t say anything else.

She was thankful for that.

She didn’t need any more lectures, especially not from a fellow addict.

**.**

Later on, she took her journal outside and added to the line she’d written two nights ago, just a few words.

_I am in hell_

_My mind is screaming at me. . ._

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last update until January because CHRISTMAS (and Thanksgiving). We’ll see if I can type out another chapter before I start posting my holiday story. I really want to write a fluffy one-shot though because I am in MISERY. Anyways, let me know what you think about this so far. I’m fragile and doubting myself these days. 
> 
> Until Next Time!


	4. Chapter 4 Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to youbuildmeupbeliever and winterova for reviewing!

**.**

**Chapter 4 Issues**

“I don’t know why I did it,” Veronica said. “It’s not like I’m unhappy. Because I’m not! I’m young and wealthy and in love. I make Hallmark movies, I’m one of the first Latinas to have a starring role in their movies—”

“Next to Alexa Vega,” Reggie interrupted.

“Reggie, it isn’t your turn to talk!” Dr. Kaysen chided as she put her clipboard down in her lap and gave the baseball player a stern look.

“I know, I know! But Veronica Lodge doesn’t have the distinction of being the first Latina actress on Hallmark. It was Alexa Vega!” Reggie argued.

Veronica shook her head and rolled her eyes. “How would you even know that?”

“I might watch Hallmark in my spare time,” Reggie said. “It’s not like I have much to do when I’m not playing baseball.”

Betty looked over at Jughead who was smirking at the exchange going on between Veronica and Reggie and shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it was a topic of conversation. She chewed her thumb nail and turned back to the counselor.

“Okay, let’s get back to the topic at hand,” Dr. Kaysen interjected. “You said you’re happy and because of that, there’s no way you could be taking drugs. But you overdosed, you were due on set when they found you unconscious in your trailer.”

“She was bored,” Jughead said as he lit a cigarette and inhaled as he pocketed his lighter.

“That’s a really good insight, Forsythe! Why don’t you kindly communicate that to Veronica?” Dr. Kaysen directed.

“Veronica, you were bored. It’s the only logical explanation left. A poor little rich girl with everything to entertain her!” Jughead shook his head and laughed. “What a freaking cliché!”

“Be sweet!” Dr. Kaysen reminded him, looking slightly appalled by his wording, she sighed and looked at Veronica. “Do you have anything to add to that?”

If Veronica was angry, she concealed it well as she straightened her skirt. “I guess I _was_ bored,” she agreed. “I shouldn’t sit here and complain. I know what everybody will think, poor little rich girl. Right? But even though my drug use stemmed from boredom, I still got addicted and _that_ doesn’t set me apart from any of you.”

“That was some very good sharing from the both of you!” Dr. Kaysen said, clapping her hands. “Forsythe, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever spoken up in group therapy. Next time, why don’t you try and share a little bit about yourself. Okay?”

“I’ll try,” Jughead answered.

“Good! Now that’s the end of today’s session! Why don’t we end it with the Serenity Prayer? Everybody take hands!”

Jughead stubbed out his cigarette and reached across the deck chair for Betty’s hand, startling her when he took it because she didn’t take him for the public prayer kind of guy. She watched him take off his ever present beanie before taking Reggie’s hand and closing his eyes.

She was shocked when he actually participated in the prayer, repeating every single word with sincerity. When everybody had said _amen_ and Veronica had crossed herself, Dr. Kaysen smiled at everyone and told them to have a nice day before gathering up her papers and disappearing inside the rehab facility.

“I could feel you looking at me,” Jughead told Betty. “Do you have something you’d like to say to me?”

Betty drew her knees to her chest and shrugged. “You participated in the prayer,” she said.

“So?”

“There’s a lovely view of the lake today! Why don’t you two go for a walk or something and take your conflict somewhere else?” Veronica suggested, clasping her hands and looking between them. “Or I can go and get somebody to play mediator between the two of you.”

“There isn’t any conflict!” Jughead answered. “Clearly, Betty has something she wants to say and I think she should say it. This is a safe space after all.”

“You participated in the prayer,” Betty repeated. “It’s just a little surprising for somebody who’s so closed off. I think Dr. Kaysen said today was the first time you actually talked in group therapy.”

“And you’re doing so well sharing your life story with the class,” Jughead retorted. “Listen, just because I don’t feel like talking about why I might be on the fast track to becoming the next Ernest Hemingway with everybody here, it doesn’t mean I’m not working on getting the help that I need!”

“You seem so antidisestablishment,” Betty said, shrugging again. “I just thought somebody like you wouldn’t say the Serenity Prayer. I’d be amazed to find out that you even believed in anything, never mind _God_.”

“That’s beside the point,” Jughead responded. “Even if I don’t believe in God it doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in getting better. The Serenity Prayer is just part of the process. The sooner you stop resisting the treatment here, the better.”

“I don’t have a problem!” Betty gritted out.

Dr. Kaysen came back outside and cleared her throat. “Forsythe, Elizabeth if I could have a word with you both inside my office, please.”

**.**

“I’ve heard the two of you can’t get along very well,” Dr. Kaysen said when she had seated them both down across from her. “Now I can see that you’re both forming arguments in your mind right now but that won’t do. Conflict is detrimental to your recovery, so I’d very much like to see you get along. That’s why I’m putting you on KP.”

“KP?” Betty repeated.

“Kitchen patrol,” Dr. Kayson explained.

“I know what KP is! I was a camp counselor when I was in high school. . . I just don’t know why you’re putting us on it. Isn’t this supposed to be celebrity rehab?”

“This is celebrity rehab!” She stood up and gathered some reading material from her bookshelves and dropped it in Betty’s lap. “Some literature. It’ll give you insight why we do the things we do around here. KP, both of you. Starting tonight! And maybe some joint counseling sessions for a couple of weeks.”

Betty’s eyes widened. “Joint counseling sessions? Isn’t that like couple therapy or something?”

“It’ll teach us to get along,” Jughead explained. “I had it with Reggie a few times in the beginning.”

“Trust me, it’ll be helpful. Not just for your relationships here but for your relationships outside of rehab afterwards and I’m not just talking about the romantic ones either. Have a good rest of your day, you two. I will be in touch.”

**.**

When Betty got to the kitchen to start dinner around 4:30 that afternoon, she found Jughead was already there with his sleeves rolled up with a knife in his hand as he sliced beefsteak tomatoes into precise, thin rounds. He was surrounded by cooing, older women while Frank Sinatra played on a large radio in the corner.

Everyone’s attention was drawn to her as soon as she came into the room.

“Um, am I late?” Betty asked anxiously.

“No, no! Don’t worry about it! You are right on time! Forsythe just gets bored so he likes to come in a little early,” a woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair said. “You must be Betty! I’m Carrie and I run this whole operation.”

“It’s nice to meet you Carrie. What can I do to help?”

“Do you know how to peel potatoes?”

“I know a thing or two about it,” Betty answered.

“Fantastic! When Forsythe is done cutting the tomatoes the two of you can start peeling potatoes together. I don’t want either of you to argue about the right way to do it either. As long as they’re getting peeled, there is no right or wrong way!”

Betty nodded even though she knew that it would be difficult not to say anything if she didn’t think Jughead was doing it the right way. She had a tendency to like to be in control, the thought that she wouldn’t be able to caused her throat to constrict a little. She tightened her ponytail and then went over to the sink to wash her hands before handling food.

She did it twice, the smell of eucalyptus and mint triggered fragments of a memory from childhood as she scrubbed away the dirt and germs her mother had always sworn were on her hands. She blinked and then it was gone, plunged back into the depths of a part of her mind she hadn’t strayed into for a while.

**.**

_I am in hell_  
My mind is screaming at me  
Memories flash through my mind unbidden. . .

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like this chapter is split into two different parts and don’t fit really well but maybe if I stepped back and looked at them objectively, they would. ANYWAYS. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that I didn’t let this story sit too long. I’ll get around to updating the last chapter in “the Santa Apprentice” soon. I am sorry to say I was discouraged by the lack of reviews I got on it (there were only 2 and I am so thankful to those two people for leaving their thoughts on it, I do not want to disappoint them!) The other reason for my delay in posting is because I came down with this past week and no energy to do anything. I think that’s why this chapter isn’t up to my usual personal standards. 
> 
> Anywho!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	5. Chapter 5 Hallelujah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Diokomen, yougottahave_faith, jandjsalmon, fictionaddict97, and megers02 for reviewing chapter 4!

**.**

**Chapter 5 Hallelujah**

After a few weeks of KP and some joint therapy sessions, Betty had actually started to find a _friend_ in Jughead. When she gave him a chance, he was easy to talk to. There were still some things he kept close to his chest but it wasn’t like she was sharing any details about _her_ life either, so she guessed she couldn’t get too wrapped up in what he wasn’t telling her.

Veronica had plenty to say about him though, nothing that she’s brave enough to speak out about during their group therapy sessions but she’s more than happy to diagnose him while she paints her nails dark purple in their bedroom. (Something about like father, like son and addiction running in Jughead’s family.)

Most of the time, Betty usually half-listened to her while she scribbled song lyrics in her diary and tried to suppress the memories that had started to assault her on an almost daily basis. She didn’t mention them to her therapist even though she asked her how she felt every time they would meet.

She couldn’t exactly say how much she still wanted a line of cocaine or a couple of Adderall to make the world more bearable. To make living with herself more bearable. . . to take away the muddled confusion she was dealing with. Everything was so much more clear before she was. . . she won’t say sober because she still doesn’t think she was ever really addicted to begin with. But everything was certainly clearer when she was on a steady diet of drugs and medicine.

A car pulled up, pulling her out of her thoughts and her cousin got out of it.

“JJ!” Betty said, standing up to greet him. “What are you doing here? Where’s Cheryl?”

“Cheryl’s in the city,” Jason answered. “She has some launch party that she’s getting ready for. I should be there helping. . . but I needed to know how you were after the last time we were together—”

“I’m doing fine,” Betty assured him. “So, I’m assuming you didn’t come to bust me out for a little bit today?”

Jason shifted from one foot to the other, a little uncomfortable. “No. Look. . . Betts, I think it would be for the best if you just stayed here like you’re supposed to. I know you don’t believe us but after last week, I really do think you need help.”

Betty felt her temper flare a little, she squeezed her fingers into the palms of her hand to keep from lashing out at him. “What about all our other friends? They all like to use drugs too and I don’t see you telling them that they need to go to rehab. Your own sister is a habitual user, I’ve never heard you tell _her_ that she needs help!”

Jason cleared his throat. “Listen. . . Betty, I’m sorry if you think I’m treating you unfairly but really, you’re the one who’s here. I _know_ Cheryl has a problem but do you think she’s going to listen to me? We _both_ know that you can’t tell her anything. We can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to. So, I think she needs help. I think she has an addiction to drugs, it doesn’t matter as long as she doesn’t believe it.” he drew in a deep breath. “You shouldn’t deflect, Betts. All I want is for you to be healthy and whole—”

“Betty, it’s almost time for our therapy session. . .” Jughead trailed off. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company! I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting much. My cousin was just telling me. . . you know, it doesn’t matter. He just came to check on me because of what happened last week. As you can see, I’m _fine_. Why don’t you go home now, Jason?”

“Aren’t you Forysthe Jones Jr?” Jason asked, ignoring his cousin. “Gah. . . you are such a dynamic actor. I-I’m a fan!”

Jughead nodded. “And you are Jason Blossom, a college football legend. My roommate is obsessed with you.”

Jason smiled ruefully. “That would be me. . . so, you’re doing okay? Me and my teammates are rooting for you to get better. Everybody loves a good comeback story.”

“Thank you. . . I’m doing well,” Jughead replied. “But we’re really going to be late for our session and tardiness is frowned upon here but it really was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Jason agreed. “I’ll see you both later. ‘Bye Betts.”

“What was that all about?” Jughead asked after Jason had left.

“He just drove all this way to tell me that he actually thinks I’m an addict just like everybody else does,” Betty answered. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We don’t want to be late.”

**.**

_“Here you go,” Alice said as she dropped an Adderall into Betty’s palm before she handed her a green smoothie. “I took the liberty of refilling your prescription because_ you _forgot.”_

_Betty sighed and slipped the pink pill in her mouth because her mom was watching. “I didn’t forget.”_

_Alice rolled her eyes. “Elizabeth, we’ve been through this before. You know you can’t function properly without them! As long as you live under_ my _roof, you_ will _refill your prescription and you_ WILL _take it every day! Do I make myself clear?”_

_Betty swallowed and then nodded. “Yes, mom.”_

_“Very good! Now run along. . . you wouldn’t want to be late for school.”_

.

“I think we’re making progress,” Jughead said “At least it doesn’t seem like she wants to rip my head off every time we’re in the same room.”

“Elizabeth, would you say you agreed with Jughead?” Dr. Kaysen asked.

“Mmmmh?” Betty looked away from the window. “Oh, were you talking to me? I’m sorry. . . I wasn’t paying attention. . . I was distracted.”

“That’s okay,” Dr. Kaysen assured her. “Would you like to tell us what was distracting you?”

Betty shook her head. “Just. . . just a memory, I guess. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Jughead, that’ll be all for today,” Dr. Kaysen said. “Why don’t you leave so I can talk to Elizabeth alone.”

“Sure,” Jughead said, getting up from his chair and touching Betty gently on the shoulder as he passed her. She glanced at him and he smiled at her encouragingly.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Dr. Kaysen told her when Jughead had closed the door behind him on his way out. “It’ll happen again. You are going to be distracted, you are going to remember things you think you’ve forgotten. It’s all part of the process. Of getting better. It’s a good sign. Do you want to talk about it?”

Betty shook her head. “No. Coopers don’t talk about problems. Hell, Coopers don’t _have_ problems and if we do, they are either brushed aside or ignored or sent away.”

“Sent away?” Dr. Kaysen repeated. “Do you want to tell me what you mean by that, Elizabeth? Did your parents send you away?”

Betty’s eyes widened and then she shook her head. “No! They never sent _me_ away!”

“But somebody else. Right? Somebody you were close to?”

“I-I really can’t talk about it!” Betty told her as she stood up and clutched her journal. “I-I’m sorry! I have to go.”

Dr. Kaysen got up too and came around her desk, reaching out for her. “Elizabeth, I really think we should talk about this. You’ve been keeping things bottled up too long and it’s led you here. Don’t you think it’s time to start and let it go? I can assure you if you don’t deal with it, you’re going to wind up back here or worse. . . dead.”

Betty shook her head. “I have to go. . .”

Dr. Kaysen stepped aside and waved her off. “Then go the door’s right there. I can’t force you to stay. But I really think—”

Betty burst out of Dr. Kayson’s office and started to run as fast as she could, her blonde ponytail bounced up and down. She could hardly hear her feet banging the wood floor or Jughead calling for her as he chased after her.

She didn’t stop running until her lungs started to burn and she was aware she was outside. She stumbled onto a bench straight across from the lake and tried to catch her breath. Jughead sat down besides her, his breathing just as heavy.

“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?” he asked between gasps of air.

“I used to run track in high school,” Betty answered, avoiding his gaze.

“Even though you are impressively fast, I wasn’t talking about that,” Jughead replied.

“You tell me first,” Betty said. “Tell me why you’re here. What led the great Jughead Jones to drink?”

Jughead opened his mouth to say something and then he shook his head. “I-I don’t think I can say it aloud, Betty. If I did. . . you would see just how truly screwed up I am.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty screwed up myself. I don’t think anything you would say could shock me,” Betty said.

Jughead nodded to her notebook. “I wrote about it when I first started dealing with everything. Maybe you should do that for starters. Unless you can deal with it in your head, you will never be able to deal with it out loud. Words are powerful, write them down for later when you can deal with them. Maybe we can both deal with our words together one day when we’re ready—”

“There you two are!” Dr. Kaysen said, interrupting them. “Are you okay, Elizabeth?”

“Betty,” she answered. “Please call me Betty. . . it’s what my mother called me when she was particularly bothered with me or trying to get me to do something she wanted me to do.”

Dr. Kaysen nodded, her mouth twisting into an odd sort of smile. “Okay, Betty it is then. So, why don’t you tell me if you’re okay.”

_The first step to getting better is admitting you have a problem. . ._

But she still couldn’t admit it aloud.

So, Betty lifted her chin and met Dr. Kaysen’s eyes for the first time ever. “I don’t know. Maybe _you_ can tell me.”

**.**

_I am in hell_  
_My mind is screaming at me_  
_Memories flash through my mind_  
_Admit it? Me?_  
_No, not ever. . ._

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is still coming to me in bits and pieces. I don’t want to drag it out for too, too long but I don’t want to do this subject an injustice either. I hope you’re still with me for the long haul! I’m looking forward to hearing from whoever feels the need to review this. I’m listening.
> 
> Until Next Time!


	6. Chapter 6 Replica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diokomen, jandjsalmon, megers82, WinonaL, and Mallory. . . thank you for the reviews!!!

**.**

**Chapter 6 Replica**

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon and Betty was sitting at the piano in front of the big picture window playing a complicated classical piece she had learned from memory for a recital she had had in the 5th grade. She tried not to think about the mornings her mother would wake her up at the crack of dawn to practice. Back then, there had been dreams of playing for the Boston Pops or some other world-renowned orchestra before she’d have a successful solo career and then settle into a life of teaching other kids how to play and carry on her legacy.

Perfection had been expected, it had been _required_ and it had gotten her far. She had started to play with the _Boston Youth Symphony_ and had been on the fast track to Julliard. It had been on those long treks from Riverdale and Boston that she’d started to take Adderall without her mother telling her she had to.

She remembered the sunny afternoon she’d taken it on her own accord, right before a concert the President of the United States and the First Lady had been slated to attend. She’d been as anxious as hell in her little black dress and ballet flats and pearls that her mother had let her wear for the occasion. She was going to perform a solo and her bun had been too tight, giving her a headache.

Without thinking about it, she seamlessly slipped into the song she had performed that day.

_Concertino Bianco: 1. Con Intenerimento._

She closed her eyes and she was back in Boston, playing for a crowd of classical music lovers. People who supported the arts and the youth of the future. She was a teenage girl again on the cusp of greatness with strings attached. She’d already been dependent on a prescription drug and applause and her mother’s approval.

Two weeks later, she’d gone and sang a cover of a cover song at open mic night in a little coffee shop in the heart of Boston. Louie had been in the crowd that night and had told her that she had talent. He’d signed her to his record label and her life had never been the same.

Her mother’s judgement was the worst thing out of the whole deal. She had lectured her for days afterwards. Pop music wasn’t on the same level as classical music. She wouldn’t ever be a Kennedy Center honoree if she started to record albums.

Betty didn’t have the energy to remind her about all the pop stars that had been inducted into the Kennedy Center.

She plunked a wrong key and it and pulled her back to the present. She looked up, suddenly aware that somebody was watching her.

“You play well . . . you play _really_ well!”

“Jug. . .” Betty smoothed her dress out. “How long have you been standing there?”

“A while,” Jughead answered. “You were really lost in thought there. Is everything okay?”

“I was just remembering,” Betty replied. “How. . . everything all started.”

Jughead took a cautious step towards her, she scooted over on the piano bench to make room for him when she saw what he was doing and motioned for him to sit down beside her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do _you_ want to talk about how your alcohol addiction started?” Betty asked pointedly. “Have you even talked about it?”

“Come to think about it, I haven’t. . . not really,” Jughead answered as he put his fingers on the ivories and plinked out a pitiful _Ode to Joy_. “I took piano when I was 9,” he explained. “It never really stuck, there was so much more I would have rather been doing. Like writing bad adventure stories.”

“You’re a good writer. I’m kind of glad you didn’t take to the piano, the world would have missed out if you hadn’t been writing bad adventure stories.”

“You’re a good writer too,” Jughead told her. “I’ve listened to your music. Remember?”

Betty shook her head. “I’ve always felt like my songs were just copycat versions of somebody else’s music. Joni Mitchell, Carly Simon, Taylor Swift. They all have done it so much better than me.”

“They’re _great_ songwriters,” Jughead agreed. “There’s no disputing _that_ but. . . well. . . I’m going to show you something but you have to promise you won’t freak out.”

Betty frowned. “Okay. . .”

Jughead unbuttoned his flannel and pulled it away from his skin. Her lyrics _“in blue and gold twilight, you ask me to kiss you and I don’t, not knowing it’s going to be too late”_ were inked right below his collarbone in messy script. Her eyes widened as she reached out with cold fingertips to touch it.

“I told you I was a fan,” Jughead whispered.

“I-I wrote that song after I read _the Book Thief_ ,” Betty said as she traced the words, not even aware of what she was doing. “I didn’t think anybody would like it enough to remember it. Never mind getting it tattooed on themselves—”

Jughead covered her hand with his. “It’s the one song that stuck with me the most out of everything I’ve ever heard you sing.”

Betty lifted her head and looked at him, her lips parted but she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody had held her hand for something other than a prayer at the end of a group therapy session. She didn’t know what to do or how to react.

She stood up and pulled away from him, wrapping her thick sweater tightly around her waist as she looked out the window at the rain. “Did you ever think when you were a little kid that you’d be _here_?”

“In rehab?” Jughead asked, shaking his head. “No, I can’t say I ever imagined I’d be _here_ but then I never imagined I’d be a teenage girl’s idol either when I was growing up in a trailer park. So, here we are.”

Betty turned and looked at him. “I just wish I could have done this whole thing differently. Lots of people go their whole celebrity life without. . .” she let it hang in the balance between them, unspoken. She had just started to come to terms with it, she didn’t think she could say it aloud yet.

“Everybody handles the pressures of fame differently,” Jughead assured her. “It might be drugs or alcohol or something completely different. They’re just not talking about it.”

“You seem to be an expert on the subject,” Betty said.

“It’s just that I’ve had a lot of therapy since I’ve come here,” Jughead answered. “They try and help put things in prospective and unlike other people, I’ve run into, I feel like they actually do care about me. About my issues. They’re committed to getting me sober, committed to getting me to be committed to sobriety. I-I spent so many years running from becoming an addict and then I did. I didn’t like who I was under the influence.”

“You were somebody who forgot making out with girls at Oscar after parties,” Betty teased.

Jughead smirked. _“Hilarious,”_ he said. “But if I recall correctly, you don’t remember it either.”

Betty got a far off look in her eyes. “I guess I don’t remember a lot of things from back then.”

“It wasn’t that long ago,” Jughead reminded her.

“I mean even further back than that,” Betty said. “It keeps coming back to me in bits and pieces. I told you, when I was playing a second ago, I remember how everything started. What I was supposed to do before I became a pop star and how I became one. . . and just. . . there are parts that are still fuzzy though. Parts that I think would be helpful in. . . in my ‘recovery’.”

Jughead got up and went to her, put his arm around her. “Hey, don’t worry about it! It’ll come back to you, I _promise_. Don’t force it, you can’t force it. How about we get out of here? I know how staying inside this house can drive you a little nuts.”

“We’re allowed to just leave?”

“Well, Valerie will have to come with us but the movie theater in town is showing _Eat, Pray, Love_ tonight for the tenth time or we could go to the coffee shop because it’s open mic night. I’m sure a lot of people would recognize us there—”

“I like _Eat, Pray, Love_ ,” Betty said.

“I’ll buy the M&Ms,” Jughead answered.

**.**

Their little outing wound up including their weekend nurse, Valerie and Reggie and Veronica. They bought tickets for the price of a Coke at the gas station and then went to the concession stand to get snacks before the movie started. Jughead bought Betty enough caramel M&Ms to make her sick to her stomach if she ate all of them.

When the movie started and she settled in one of the velvet seats and let herself get lost in the world where Julia Roberts was having a midlife crisis.

For the first time in a while, the flashbacks and the voices in her head were quiet.

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep the same tone throughout the chapter. The last part went through multiple rewrites, the first draft included the first appearance of Toni. She’ll show up soon though, not to cause any unnecessary tension between Bughead though. Just to round out this cast of characters. This story is going to be longer than I thought but it’s one of those things you can’t finish in a hurry. Next up, family day and more revelations about both Jughead and Betty’s past. I hope you’ll tune in next week! Thanks for sticking around this long, especially since I don’t really what the heck I’m doing here! I’m usually all mushy and gushy and if I have to write angst, it just gets me to the romantic stuff. Which, is coming in this story! Anyways, I’m rambling. Leave some feedback, I need to know how I’m doing with this topic!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	7. Chapter 7 Reminders, Defeats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A list of acknowledgements: jandjasalmon, megers82, zoella, and youbuildmeupbeliver

.

**Chapter 7 Reminders, Defeats**

“Betty, _what_ are you doing?”

She lifted her head off the desk and looked at her mom. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”

Alice waved her hand at the rolled up 100 dollar bill and leftover lines of white powder on her childhood hand mirror. _“This!”_

Betty stood up and found a tissue to wipe her nose. “Just taking the edge off. _You_ taught me that.”

Alice shook her head. “No. No, you don’t get to blame _this_ on me, Elizabeth! I never taught you to take illegal drugs! I-I taught you to go to a therapist and to take medicine they prescribed to you. . . I. . . you cannot blame this on me!”

Betty laughed bitterly and opened her nightstand drawer, taking out her bottle of Adderall. She unscrewed the cap and dry swallowed two capsules. “Just like you taught me,” she repeated.

Alice’s eyes widened and then she cleared her throat. “I think we’re going to need to talk about this later after the family leaves. Go and get cleaned up, dinner is almost ready.”

Betty kicked off her shoes and pulled her sweatshirt over her head, tossing it to the side, not caring she was standing in front of her mother with just a bra on. “I guess I better not embarrass you in front of the Blossoms. Not that they have anything to be embarrassed about. Cheryl’s the one who gave me the cocaine, after all.”

Alice sighed and she pushed her hair away from her face. “Well, Penelope and Clifford will have to deal with Cheryl.”

Betty started to rifle through her closet. “Are you going to _tattle_ on Cheryl, mother?”

“Tattle? I’m not a little girl, Elizabeth! I will inform your aunt and uncle about their daughter’s actions. She’s putting you and herself in danger with her reckless behavior.”

 Betty laughed. “I don’t think they care.”

Alice shook her head. “Betty, please just finish getting dressed and then come downstairs. You know how much your father hates dry turkey.”

**.**

Betty woke up with a start, the flashbacks had started to come to her in dreams. She’d forgotten about that Thanksgiving from 11 months ago, had pushed her mother’s worried face further and further from her mind as she had done lines and mixed them with her prescriptions. She sat up and scraped her hair away from her face, grabbed her bottle of water and guzzled it.

She wondered belatedly if her mother had ever told Penelope about Cheryl and the cocaine. Not that it had mattered, her aunt wouldn’t have _really_ cared. She and Clifford really were terrible parents.

She got out of bed and snuck out of her bedroom, making sure not to disturb Veronica. She went downstairs to the front desk and dialed her mother’s number from memory. It rang a few times and she almost thought nobody would answer and then she heard Alice’s voice, thick with sleep.

“Cooper residence, how may I help you?”

“Mom?” Betty whispered.

“Betty? Sweetie, is that you? Why are you calling so early in the morning? Is something wrong?”

“Um, yeah. . . everything’s fine,” Betty finally answered. “I didn’t relapse or anything if that’s what you were wondering.”

“Honey, that’s not what I meant at all. . . it’s just really late and you hear bad things about rehab places,” Alice answered. “Do you need something? We got an invitation for family day, I can bring anything you need when we come then.”

 

“No,” Betty replied. “I-I don’t need anything. I-I just had a dream. . . a flashback, I guess and I-I don’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Betty. . . honey—”

Betty hung up the phone without saying goodbye and startled when she saw Jughead sitting on the stairs, eating a candy bar.

  
“Are you stalking me?” she asked as she pushed past him.

“No, this is entirely coincidental, actually. I usually sit on the stairs because I can’t sleep. Reggie’s a light sleeper.”

Betty was about to tell him that she didn’t believe him when she saw his journal next to him. “Oh.”

“I called my mom too,” Jughead said. “One of the last times I saw her, when I was wasted. . . I said horrible things to her and I wanted to apologize but I couldn’t. I still haven’t been able to find the right words to say to her. She’ll be here with my sister on family day though, maybe we can both do it then.”

“I think that’s the point of family day,” Betty answered. “For our families to air their grievances to us and for us to tell them how sorry we are.”

“Aren’t you sorry?” Jughead asked.

Betty sat down and propped her elbows on her knees. “I guess. . . I mean, I haven’t thought about it much but if I did. . . you didn’t see my mom’s face when she found out I was using Coke.”

“I saw _my_ mom’s face when she found out that I. . .” Jughead swallowed.

“What?” Betty asked. “What is it?”

Jughead sighed. “If I tell you, I’m going to have to tell Dr. Kaysen too and I haven’t told anybody because I’m so embarrassed.”

Betty reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“I always said I was going to be better,” Jughead said.

“I know, you told me that once. Better than who?”

“My father,” Jughead replied. “It all started with him. He was an alcoholic and I’m a frigging cliché because I’m just like him.”

“You’re not,” Betty said.

Jughead craned his head to look at her. “How do you know?”

“Where’s he right now?”

“I-I don’t know,” Jughead said. “I haven’t seen him since I was a sophomore in high school and he left when mom said that he needed to get sober or get out. Yeah, they had a very anti- _This Is Us_ relationship. Jack and Rebecca Pearson they were not. But I think, I really do think she thought he loved her enough to get sober. But he didn’t, he chose a bar instead of her.”

Betty looked around the downstairs. “You’re here,” she said. “You’re here and you’re getting better. You don’t know where your father is, he could be. . . he could be—”

“Dead,” Jughead finished for her. “I know. I think about it every day.”

“ _OR!_ Or he could be in a bar somewhere, wondering how the hell he’s going to get out.”

Jughead sighed. “When I get out of here, I want to hire a private investigator and find him. Just to make sure he’s okay. . . I worry about him and I know my mother worries about him more. Even if he didn’t want anything to do with us or he didn’t want to get better, I’d like the peace of mind. I want _her_ to have peace of mind.”

Betty released a deep breath, she didn’t know what to say or what to do. Cheryl was always better at handling things, would always bring the best drugs, top-shelf alcohol, and throw a party if somebody was feeling down. But they couldn’t use chemicals to lift their spirits.

If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t really have any interest in taking drugs at the moment and she was almost certain that Jughead wasn’t interested in drinking anything. She slid down a step and sat next to him, waited a second and then wound her arm through his. Another second passed and then he put his hand over her’s.

They stayed like that until the night nurse told them to go back to bed.

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a rather short chapter but I kind of am at the point where I feel like if I add more, it’ll take away from the impact of certain things. Like more of Betty’s flashbacks and Jughead opening up to Betty just a little bit. The next chapter will be dedicated to family day and the certain appearance of a new character. . . maybe, I can barely juggle Reggie and Veronica right now! I hope you’ll tell me what you thought and if you want something a little lighter to read, I just posted the first chapter in a Valentine’s Day story!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	8. Chapter 8 Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks and love go to jandjsalmon, youbuildmeupbeliever, megers82, Diokomen, WinonaL, and taylor for their reviews on the last chapter!

**.**

**Chapter 8 Hurt**

“I’m sorry I used drugs,” Veronica told Archie, holding his hands and not looking away from his eyes. “I know it scared you and I still did it because I didn’t care. I didn’t think anybody could tell me what to do. I didn’t hear your concern, I only heard how I thought you were trying to be the boss of me. I-I just hope you can still love me now.”

Dr. Kaysen nodded. “Very good. Archibald, do you have anything you’d like to tell Veronica?”

Archie cleared his throat. “Ronnie, I didn’t stop loving you just because you didn’t listen to me! I’ve loved you since we were 16-years-old, it’s not going to stop now! If anything, I love you even more. You are one of the strongest people that I know. I forgive you. I forgive you and I promise when you get out of here, we’re going to fight your addiction together.”

There was a collective sigh around the room and applause that only someone like the lead singer of the Archies could garner.

Betty glanced at Jughead but he looked like he was buying it just as much as everyone else sitting in their circle. She remembered how Veronica had confided in her that Archie and Jughead were in a friendship that spanned over 2 decades.

For a second, she wondered if Archie would have to grant Jughead forgiveness in addition to Veronica. If he’d been Jughead’s designated driver or if he’d dealt with the hangovers the morning afterwards.

She shook her head and tried to focus on Veronica like she was supposed to. Her mother had taken Archie’s place, dressed all in black and thick pearls. She even had a black, lace handkerchief. She looked like a Latina widow, Betty twisted her lips to keep from laughing out loud at the scene in front of her.

It wouldn’t be fair if she laughed and she didn’t want Veronica to think she was laughing at her. She folded her hands in her lap and reminded herself of the occasion they were observing. Listening intently as her roommate apologized to her mother and Hermione Lodge forgave her, with a comment in the middle about how they had raised her better than to treat her boredom with _drugs_. There was a lot of hugging, a lot of tears and then she moved on to her father, grandmother, and butler while Dr. Kaysen mediated between them.

When it was over, Dr. Kaysen checked her notes. “Okay, next up is Forsythe Jones and his mother, Gladys and sister Forsythia.”

A tall woman who looked like Neve Campbell stood up. She was the polar opposite of Hermione in her denim skirt and yellow Converse sneakers. She looked like somebody who knew hard work and _hardships_. But at the same time, she was looking at her son with so much forgiveness and tenderness as he took the seat across from her. His sister had multi-colored hair in a long braid and ripped skinny jeans paired with studded Vans. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere except for the rehab facility.

“Forsythe,” Dr. Kaysen prompted like she’d been doing for most of the morning with the other clients. “Is there something you’d like to say to your mother and sister?”

Jughead cleared his throat and took his mom. “I just. . . mom, you don’t know how sorry I am for everything. I never wanted to get like this. . . I never meant to become like dad. But I did, I did become like him and I can’t ever shake the feeling that I’ve become a major disappointment to you.”

“How about you talk about a specific moment where you think you disappointed your mother,” Dr. Kaysen prodded.

Gladys shook her head. “No. No, you don’t have to, Juggie. Because the truth is, even though it killed me to see you struggle with the same addiction as your father, I was never for a second disappointed in you. You are so much more than he’ll ever be. Because here you are, fighting for your life. You gave me and your sister the kind of life that I never imagined I would have. I know today is about forgiveness, so I forgive you even though I don’t think there is anything to forgive. I forgive you and I love you.”

Dr. Kaysen nodded and handed Gladys a box of tissues. “Your turn, Forsythia. Is there anything you would like to say to your brother?”

She shook her head. “Nope,” she said emphasizing the “p” at the end of her sentence.

“Well, I’m sure there’s something your brother would like to say to you.”

Cheryl leaned over to Betty. “This is all so very much like a soap opera,” she whispered.

“Shhh!” Betty said, putting her finger to her lips.

“Speak to your sister from your heart,” Dr. Kaysen said.

“Jellybean, if I was in anyway a bad brother because of my alcohol addiction, I want to say I’m sorry—”

“You broke your promise!” Jellybean interjected. “You promised me to my face that you’d never become like our father and you did! You lied to me and you broke your promise!”

Cheryl smirked and sat up a little straighter. “Plot twist! Little sister actually does have something to say!”

Betty gave her a look that Cheryl always said reminded her of her mother but always managed to get her to shut up.

Jughead looked shaken but not stunned. “I know that I broke my promise. I think about it more than I’d like to. It lives with me, a constant reminder of how I messed up. About how I _hurt_ you and created a breach of trust in our relationship. I can’t take it back now but I can promise to do better. To be better. I can’t promise I won’t ever let you down again because I am only human and because of that, I am fundamentally flawed. Will you please forgive me? It doesn’t have to be today. Just eventually.”

“Forgiveness is for you Forsythia,” Dr. Kaysen said. “Not for him, once you forgive your brother than you will start to feel better. Trust me when I say that I am speaking from experience. Once you forgive him, whatever baggage you’ve been carrying around will be lifted off your shoulders. I know it’s hard, I know you probably want to give him an ultimatum or strike a deal but if you do that, then you’ll just be right back to where you started from.”

Jellybean bit her lip. “I-I need more time,” she finally answered. “I still love you though, I just don’t know if I’m ready to do it.”

Dr. Kaysen nodded. “That’s okay. That’s okay as long as you work towards it and rebuild that trust. How about we take a break for some refreshments and then we’ll finish up the rest of the sessions?”

**.**

Betty stirred the ice around in her lemon water, watching as the mint leaves whirl pooled around her glass.

“How about we skip out of the rest of the session and go find a party somewhere!” Cheryl suggested, propping her white elbows up against the table and smiling at her,

Betty shook her head. “Not only are my parents here but Louie is too and I’d really like to keep my record deal.”

“So, you’re telling me that you don’t really believe in all of this nonsense? You don’t think you’re an addict? You’re just here because you don’t want to lose the fame and fortune?”

Betty thought back to everything she had been experiencing the last few weeks. At first she thought she had been there to preserve her career, her status as a Billboard Pop Princess. But it had become so much more than that. She had come to realize she did have a sickness. She couldn’t say it aloud though, especially not to her cousin.

Cheryl wouldn’t understand.

She was saved by having to explain anything by Jughead’s arrival with Gladys.

“Hey Betts,” he said. “My mother wanted to meet you. She’s almost as big of a fan as I am.”

Betty put her glass down and stuck out her hand, putting on her most genuine smile. “Hi, it’s so good to finally meet you!”

“You too,” Gladys answered, shaking her hand warmly. “My son’s told me a lot about you.”

 _“Mom!”_ Jughead said.

“Oh, he does, does he?” Betty smirked. “I didn’t think Jughead talked about much of anything.”

“Well, he talks about you.”

“Mom, there is such a thing as mother and son confidentiality!”

“Here, eat this. It’ll make you feel better!” Gladys turned to him and handed over a large chocolate chip cookie with fat chocolate chunks. “So, Betty did your mom and dad come today?”

“Yes,” Betty answered, glancing at her parents. They were deep in conversation with Dr. Kaysen.

“Betty, you look well!” Louie interrupted as he came up and gave her a hug. “Much better than when I dropped you off.”

“Thank you,” Betty answered. “It’s good to see you again, I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too!” Louie said. He beamed at Jughead. “I see you and Forsythe Jones here have become fast friends.”

“He.  . .” Betty trailed off. “He makes things easier. Jughead, this is my manager Louie Quimby. He obviously knows who you are.”

“I’ve heard of Louie in the music magazines I read,” Jughead said as he swallowed his cookie. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all _mine_ ,” Louie replied, pumping Jughead’s hand enthusiastically before spinning around and turning his grin on Gladys. “This must be your mother!”

Jughead nodded. “Yeah. My sister’s around here somewhere too. I think she cornered Reggie and is trying to get his autograph or something like that. It’s easier to forgive the people you don’t know, isn’t it?”

“Honey. . .”

Jughead got a funny look on his face like he couldn’t believe he’d really said it aloud. He cleared his throat. “I’m going to get something else to eat. Can I get you anything? Betty? Mom? Louie?”

“I’m okay,” Betty said, trying to muster a smile in his direction. She had to control herself and try not to reach out and take his hand.

“Me too,” Gladys added.

“I’ve got a business dinner in Boston after this is over,” Louie replied. “I’ve got to save room for it but thank you for offering.”

Jughead nodded and shuffled off in the direction of the refreshment table. Betty considered following him but decided she didn’t want to cross any of their well-drawn boundaries.

“You’ve got a good son there,” Loui told Gladys. “Talented too.”

“I know. He’s had it rough but he always has a way of conquering mountains,” Gladys said, watching him too. “Like I said, he’s so much stronger than his father ever was. I just want him to realize that.”

Cheryl came up to Betty wrapped up in one of her many fur coats. “Listen, I’m going to get out of here. I forgive you and all that jazz!” She kissed both Betty’s cheeks. “I love you and I’ll see you later.”

“Love you too, Cher. Be kind to yourself.”

Cheryl laughed and then was gone with clicking high heels.

**.**

When the sessions resumed, it was Betty’s turn to face the people she needed to make amends with. Louie was easy, he told her that he didn’t like it when he watched her hurt herself with drugs. He told her how talented and beautiful she was and how glad he was that she had stopped throwing it away on things that could get her killed.

Then he forgave her. He told her they would be going ahead with the album release like they had planned.

Betty went through the list fairly quickly. Her sister, Jason, her father. All that was left was her mother. The person she faced dreading the most in the whole entire world because her mother hated spectacles. Because Dr. Kaysen had told her since she was an adult, she had to take some responsibility for her actions. She couldn’t blame it all on her mom anymore.

Betty knew it was true. Her mother had _not_ convinced her to try Cocaine for the first time, hadn’t rolled up the dollar bill or given her a mirror. She hadn’t made her keep doing it afterwards either.

Yes, she’d been strict. Yes, she had made her work hard to stay on top of her school work and her piano lessons. She had been less than happy when Betty had decided to become a pop singer instead of a classical musician.

But. . .

“You love me right?” Betty asked aloud.

Alice sighed, sitting rigid in her chair. “Are you going to say we’re here because everything you’ve done from point A to now was a cry for attention? Because I _tried_ , Elizabeth. I tried my damned hardest to give you and Polly the best life possible. So, I gave you medicine but it was prescribed to you by your _doctor_ to help you live your best life. Maybe if I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have given you them. But it happened and I can’t take it back! I-I can’t take it back and I’m sorry!”

She got up and breached the distance between her and her mother. Alice looked apprehensive for a second, like she was afraid of what was going to happen next. . . like she didn’t know if Betty was going to punch her or throw a fit.

Instead, Betty pulled her mom out of the chair and embraced her.

“I love you Betty,” Alice whispered.

“I love you too,” Betty said. “I love you too, Mom.”

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got way too out of control. If you made it through it, congratulations! A large portion of this chapter was inspired by a scene from “28 Days” with Sandra Bullock. I hope you’ll tell me what you thought! Be back with the next chapter of “We Came, We Saw, We Loved” on Wednesday. 
> 
> Until Next Time!


	9. Chapter 9 Suggestions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to youbuildmeupbeliever, jandjsalmon, and WinonaL for the reviews.

**.**

**Chapter 9 Suggestions**  
“I’m leaving soon,” Jughead told her when she found him sprawled out on the couch watching _This Is Us_ reruns on the Hallmark Channel later that night. His hair was disheveled, his tie loosened, his suspenders hanging off his shoulders. “My 90 days are almost up.”

Betty nodded. “I know. What are you going to do?”

“Go to AA meetings, repair my relationship with JB, find my father. . .” Jughead listed. “I just inked a deal for a new movie. A modern day retelling of A Tale of Two Cities, I’m playing opposite of Dylan Sprouse.”

“Who are you playing?”

“Charles Darnay,” Jughead said, pulling his feet up so she could sit down.

Betty kicked her shoes off and curled up at the end of the couch, struggling to pull her dress over her knees. “Charles Darnay? I thought for sure you’d be Sydney Carton!”

“I originally auditioned for him but the director had watched Dylan Sprouse’s performance in _Dismissed_ and decided to go with him instead. I’m just thankful for the opportunity. It isn’t every day that you get to work with Ridley Scott on a major motion picture.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Their eyes met and the way he was looking at her made Betty’s heart skip a beat. There was the rule. The one that said there couldn’t be any romantic entanglements between patients. . . but. . . she wanted to crawl across the couch and kiss him.

It had been awhile since she’d kissed anybody. The chemical kisses were a fuzzy memory, she couldn’t remember if she had ever kissed anyone sober. She wanted to know what it felt like, what it tasted like—

“What are you thinking about?” Jughead asked.

Betty swallowed hard, her mouth felt like there was cotton balls in it. “Wh-what do you think it would have been like if we met in real life?”

“We probably would have been bad for each other,” Jughead answered. “Besides, we _did_ meet in real life.”

“It was just the once though,” Betty replied. “I mean, what do you think it would have been like if we knew each other every day?”

“I would have wrecked you.”

“I was already wrecked.”

“I would have made it worse.”

“I’m not that innocent,” Betty reminded him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve left a lot of damage in my wake. Addiction makes people selfish.”

“Maybe if we’d met in real life, we would get sober and they’d tell us we weren’t good for each other afterwards and then we’d never see each other again. I want to see you again—”

In that moment, there was pounding on the front door, followed by frantic cries for help.

Betty’s heart stopped, she would be able to recognize that voice anywhere. Her stomach turned and she stood up.. “I-I think that’s Cheryl. . .”

“Your _cousin_? What’s she doing here?” Jughead asked as he followed her out into the foyer.

“I don’t know!” Betty fumbled to unlock the door. “Where is everybody!? There are usually nurses everywhere!”

“For the love of God, somebody help me!” Cheryl shrieked.

“Betty go and find a nurse,” Jughead ordered.

Betty went off running while Jughead took over getting the door opened. A few minutes later, she returned with Susanna while Cheryl stumbled in, her eyes glazed over, streaks of mascara were running down her cheeks.

“Somebody help me!” Cheryl repeated. “She’s. . . she’s not waking up!”

“Who’s not waking up?” Susanna asked she turned to Betty. “I recognize her. She’s one of your’s right?”

Betty nodded. “Yeah. She’s one of my cousins, her name is Cheryl.”

Susanna gave her a little shake. “Cheryl. . . Cheryl sweetie, who’s not waking up?” she sighed and shook her head. “She’s as high as a kite. I don’t think she understands what I’m saying.”

Cheryl grabbed Susanna by the wrist. “You have to come with me! Please! I need your help!”

“Where do you need me to go, Cheryl?” Susanna asked.

“Cher, what’s going on?” Betty interrupted. “Sweetie, Susanna can’t help you if you don’t tell her what’s wrong.”

“It’s Toni! She’s not waking up!” Cheryl answered. “She’s in the car and she’s not waking up!”

Susanna turned to Jughead. “Forsythe, go and call 911!”

Cheryl crumpled to the ground as she said this, Betty started to scream and everything turned shades of black, she felt like the air had been sucked out of her as she watched her cousin convulse on the floor while Susanna started to work on her, shouting out instructions she couldn’t understand.

There was only white noise.

All she could see was Cheryl.

Cheryl standing in front of her, white skin, long red hair, and even redder bikini. She had a rolled up 100 dollar bill in one hand, a flat jewelry in another one.

“Just one line Betts _. . ._ just _ONE_! We’re in TJ, we’re on spring break. Live a little. Live _a lot_!”

There was a possibility Cheryl was going to leave them. She’d leave with the same addiction she had made fun of Betty for.

Betty fell to her knees and tried to breathe. She couldn’t. . .

“Jug. . .” she gasped.

He knelt down beside her. “I’m right here. Try and breathe.”

“I’ve got her, it’s okay!” Valerie said, sitting down beside Betty. “Honey, listen to me, you can’t do this right now. You need to be strong.”

Betty wasn’t there, she was in a hotel room in TJ, wearing a blue and gold one-piece, inhaling her first line of cocaine, there was a bass beat. . . Kanye West, she could feel it vibrating through her whole body. Cheryl was cheering her on.

“Isn’t it great?” She asked. “Don’t you feel like you can do anything you want?”

There was the wail of ambulance sirens somewhere in the distance. Somebody was dying. . . somebody was. . .

She looked up from the glass coffee table she was leaning over and everything shifted into focus again. Jughead was there, his face anxious. Valerie’s hand was on her back while she reminded her how to breathe.

Paramedics were coming up the steps, taking over for Susanna. Putting an IV in Cheryl’s bright blue vein, putting an oxygen mask over her face. Cutting away her dress, the one that had cost a small fortune.

“You have to go with them,” Valerie said. “You’re the closest thing she has to family right now. You might have to make decisions. I’m going to get your cell phone, you need to use it to call her parents. Just call her parents and maybe call your’s. Do you hear me?”

Betty nodded mechanically and stumbled to her feet.

“You’re going to need your coat, shoes, and purse,” Veronica said, appearing out of nowhere to help her step into a pair of flats, to push her coat on.

They had gotten Cheryl onto gunnery, Betty followed them out and down the stairs. She looked to her left and watched as another team of EMTs pull Toni Topaz out of Cheryl’s convertible and place her in a body bag, her pink hair was everywhere. She was missing a thigh-high boot, her dark skin was already turning ashy gray.

Betty released a breath and got in after her cousin. They closed the doors and after what seemed like eternity, they sped off into the night.

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but there’s a lot going on. You best thank one of my close fandom friends for talking me out of killing Cheryl off like I’d originally planned from the beginning. I am sorry I took Toni but as you could tell from previous chapters, Cheryl needed a wakeup call. More to come soon, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I hope you’ll keep journeying on with me. If you have anything to say about this chapter, drop it below. I look forward to hearing all your thoughts.
> 
> Until Next Time!


	10. Chapter 10 How To Save A Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Diokomen, Super_Madi, jandjsalmon, and WinonaL thank you for your reviews!

**.**

**Chapter 10 How To Save A Life**

She was back in her apartment and the world was spinning around, pink pills were scattered everywhere while Taylor Swift’s latest single bleared on her surround sound stereo system. Betty had no thoughts, none at all. Except maybe this wasn’t the perfect high she thought it would be. All the edges were black and it almost seemed like her life was flashing before her eyes.

She didn’t want to die.

She didn’t want to. . .

She woke up in a hospital room hooked up to an IV and with a breathing tube taped to her nose. Her mother was sleeping in a chair beside her bed, she blinked a few times and noted she was reading a book about being a parent of an addict.

Betty bristled. She did not have an addiction—

**.**

“Betty?”

Betty snapped her head up. “Mom.”

“Aunt Penelope and Uncle Cliff aren’t coming,” Alice said. “They don’t believe Cheryl really has an addiction. . .” she paused and shook her head. “They told me that it was _your_ fault. She was under your influence.”

Betty shook her head. “No. My therapist says that I’m 27 and I cannot shift the blame to other people for my addiction but Cheryl. . . mom, she’s the one who gave me the cocaine for the first time.”

“I know,” Alice answered. “I know she was the one who gave you the drugs in the first place. I am going to find somebody to talk to. Sit tight, okay?”

Betty nodded and looked down at the palm of her hand, studied the crescent-moon indents in her skin. She realized she hadn’t pierced her skin with her nails this whole time. . . she realized she was okay. . .

“Mind if I sit down?”

“Dr. Kaysen!” Betty said. “Um, sure. . .”

“Susanna called me,” Dr. Kaysen explained as she took the hospital chair beside Betty and crossed her ankles. “I thought you could use somebody to talk to. Do you want to talk?”

Betty opened her mouth and shook her head. “I’m not tempted to go out and shoot up, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s okay if you were thinking about it,” Dr. Kaysen answered. “It would be a natural reaction to what’s going on right now.”

“I was just thinking about. . . how she was there this afternoon, how she said she was going to a party. I could have stopped her, I could have asked her to stay but I let her go. I let her go and now, she’s overdosed and if she wakes up. . . _when_ she wakes up, somebody’s going to have to tell her that her girlfriend is dead.”

Dr. Kaysen shook her head. “Elizabeth, it isn’t your responsibility. Even if you had gotten her to stay at the family sessions this afternoon, she could have gone out and partied afterwards. Her girlfriend could still be dead right now. You can’t blame yourself—”

“I _knew_!” Betty interjected. “I’ve known for years! Cheryl was one of my suppliers, if I ever needed a fix, she always had some. Always and I could have stopped her. . . I could have. . .”

“You couldn’t even fix yourself,” Dr. Kaysen reminded her. “There was no way you could have stopped your cousin from self-harming when you were doing the same thing. Up until a couple weeks ago, you couldn’t even admit you had a problem out loud. You wouldn’t have been any help to Cheryl.”

“Toni did my first photo shoot for my first major magazine,” Betty rambled on, clasping her hair and pulling it back up into a tight ponytail. “I liked her so much, I asked if she could do my liner notes for my album.”

“Toni’s not your fault either,” Dr. Kaysen said.

“No. Toni did drugs even before we met,” Betty answered. “But maybe if I hadn’t introduced Cheryl and Toni, they wouldn’t have been at the party together and—”

“No! Stop right now. None of this is your fault!” Dr. Kaysen told her firmly. “Stop sitting here and lying to yourself. It isn’t good for your recovery and it most certainly won’t help your cousin if she decides she wants to get help.”

Betty sighed. “I. . . I just—”

“No. I know what you’re going to say and it won’t do any good. Wishing for things like that isn’t helpful. Concentrate on the now, concentrate on moving forward.”

“I just talked to one of the nurses,” Alice interrupted. “Her condition has stabilized, she’s going to make it. She’s going to make it. I’ll call Penelope and tell her the news in a little bit. There’s a dozen things I need to do. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I can help,” Betty offered.

Alice shook her head. “You’re going back to the facility and finishing out your 90 days. I’ll take care of Cheryl. It’s my responsibility now, Penelope will actively pretend nothing is happening and blame everyone else when she finally realizes her daughter is just as imperfect as. . . everyone else.”

Betty thought there was subtext there but she knew it wouldn’t be helpful for her to be confrontational. Besides, if she were being honest. . . she was tired of being seen as _perfect_ and if nobody ever saw her like that again, she’d be fine with it.

“I should bring return you to the facility before curfew,” Dr. Kaysen said. “You can come back and check on her tomorrow, if you’d like. We don’t like you straying further than the village while you are with us but we do make exceptions for family emergencies.

Betty nodded and stood up.

“I’ll see you later,” Alice said, hugging her before disappearing back behind the ICU doors.

**.**

Jughead was waiting for her in the living room when she got back. Dr. Kaysen gave him a look and then warned them to go to bed in 10 minutes before leaving to go home.

“She’s going to be okay,” Betty said as she stripped off her coat and started up for her room.

“Are you?” Jughead asked.

“It’s not like I’m going to sneak out my window and shoot up,” Betty repeated what she had said to Dr. Kaysen earlier.

“Are you blaming yourself?”

“Trying not to,” Betty answered. “But it’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Jughead nodded and followed her up the stairs, reached out for hand and squeezed it. “I understand,” he told her.

Betty wanted to turn around and ask if he _really_ knew what she felt like or he was just saying that to make her feel better. But she was too weary to pick a fight, to argue with him, to call him out on what seemed like BS to her. Instead, she leaned in oh him and sighed. “Just help me to my room. I don’t know if I can move anymore, I’m so tired.”

Jughead nodded. “Of course,” he replied.

Veronica was, unsurprisingly, waiting for her when she got to their room. She was a flurry of activity as she took her from Jughead and helped her out of her dress and into the shower.

When she was alone, Betty covered her face with her hands and cried.

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am pretty sure this story is going to wrap up pretty soon. I’m not sure how much longer but I cannot imagine dragging it out past this. I’ve said everything that can be said and made the breakthroughs I wanted. Now all is left for, as Shakespeare says, the journey to end when lovers meet. We’ll see where my muse takes me when I set out to write chapter 11. Be on the lookout this weekend for a special sneak peek of a new story or two! In the meantime, I hope you’ll tell me what you thought.
> 
> Until Next Time!


	11. Chapter 11 Dark Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jandjsalmon, WinonaL, and Diokomen

**.**

**Chapter 11 Darkest Light**

They had a funeral for Toni two weeks later. Betty attended it, flanked by Jughead and Valerie. Cheryl was sitting by herself at the reception, clad in black, complete with a heavy veil covering her face.

She seemed stone cold but Betty could see the slump of her shoulders, the way her hands shook as she wiped at her eyes with a silky handkerchief.  

“Go talk to her,” Valerie said. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Betty swallowed hard and nodded. She hadn’t talked to her cousin since family day, hadn’t been able to pluck up any more courage to go and visit her in the hospital. But she was still a work in progress, she had gone when it mattered most. She was showing up now.

She squared her shoulders and went over to her cousin, taking the seat beside her.

“Hey Cher,” she said cautiously.

“I suppose you want me to say sorry for the way I acted at family day,” Cheryl answered. “Right?”

“No. . .”

“I don’t blame you for coming to see me in the hospital, my own parents didn’t even visit. They’re currently pretending I don’t exist. The only people I have are your mother and Jason.”

“I wanted to come. . . I just didn’t know what to say. Toni’s our first friend to die because of drugs,” Betty replied. “I’ve just gotten sober, I was afraid. I owe you an apology for not being there.”

“Aunt Alice said you came to the hospital with me. That’s something. . . that’s more than you had to do,” Cheryl said. “Thank you.”

“I’d do anything for you,” Betty told her.

“I know.” Cheryl sighed. “I don’t know how to say I’m sorry for the way I treated you. For making fun of what you’re doing to get sober.”

“It’s okay. I’m ready to forgive you when you know how to say it.”

Cheryl took her hand. “Please stay with me today.”

“Of course,” Betty said. Cheryl leaned her head on Betty’s shoulder and expelled a tired sigh. “It’s going to be okay,” she told her cousin.

“I hope you’re right,” Cheryl replied. “Because I don’t think anything’s going to be okay ever again.”

**.**

Betty and Jughead stayed with her mom, dad, and Chery; that night because they were in her hometown. Valerie had entrusted them both to Alice before going to her hotel for the night.

Betty sat in her bedroom, crunching on crushed ice with her diary open in front of her. She thought she’d try to write about what she had thought and felt over the course of the day but she couldn’t find the words. She thought about Jughead in Polly’s room across the hallway and sighed.

She was still thinking about that night in the TV room. She still wondered what would have happened if Cheryl hadn’t shown up and everything hadn’t gone to hell. She wondered if she would have gotten up enough courage to kiss him, if they would have been caught. If he would have kissed her back or if they would have just watched _This Is Us_ reruns until it was time to go to bed.

Before she could overthink it, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood up. For a second, she thought about the rules about not fraternizing with the other patients in the program but she pushed it aside. There was a chance he could reject her, there was a chance dozens of other people. . . got together at rehab.

She looked around the hallway, she could hear the television downstairs, she could hear Hal ask Cheryl if he could get her anything. When she was sure she was in the clear, she darted out of her bedroom and knocked on the door.

Jughead opened it, still dressed for a funeral. “Betty. . .”

She kissed him before she lost the courage, without pretty speeches, throwing caution to the wind in her first act of bravery since she had entered rehab and he kissed her back. There was a pause before they pulled away, a release of breath.

“It’s against the rules,” was the first thing Betty said.

Jughead nodded. “I know.”

“It’s against the rules and I’ve already broken so many rules and you’re going to leave soon,” Betty continued.

“Yes, I am.”

“But I like you,” Betty told him.

“I like you too,” Jughead answered.

“I like _like_ you,” Betty explained. “Like if we had met anywhere else, I’d hope you wouldn’t have a girlfriend. I’d give you my number if you asked for it and wait for you to call. If you asked me out, I’d say yes without thinking twice about it and spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out what to wear. I would look forward to the third date when it was finally socially acceptable to kiss.”

“I feel that way too,” Jughead said. “I’ve felt that way since the first day we met.”

“At rehab? When I was so terrible to you?”

Jughead shook his head and pushed hair away from her face. “The very first day. When you were high and I was drunk at the after party. I spent days wondering what it would have been like if we had met and not been so much like ourselves. I’m still glad we got to know each other after we were in recovery. Because I told you. . . I’m not planning on letting you go.”

She kissed him again, wanted to memorize the moment as one of the things she would remember the rest of her life without drugs in her system.

It was perfect.

A lighthouse in a dark, stormy sea. Betty felt a gnawing sense of guilt that the start of her happiness was being born out of her cousin’s sadness but she wasn’t sure if they’d get the chance after they went back and she just wanted to know what it felt like for a second. . .

Jughead pulled away and rested his forehead against her’s.

They were going to be okay.

**TBC. . .**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there’s ONE more chapter and we can put this fic to bed. I am sorry for the long breaks between updates. I’ve just had a lot going on but I am close to an end for this first thing. Tell me what you thought and I’ll try to update soon! That is not in any way a bribe to get you to review, by the way. Even though it could be read that way. . . I promise, I did not mean in that way.
> 
> Until Next Time!


	12. Chapter 12 Closing Theme (This Is Us)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> marissa_mon, Las6212, WinonaL, jandjsalmon, Diokomen. . . thank you for your reviews on the last chapter. I am sorry this update took so long to get here.

**.**

**Chapter 12 Closing Theme (This Is Us)**

_One Year Later_

She could hear the crowds screaming her name as she made her way to the stage. She was on the first leg of her _Invincible_ tour and she could hardly believe she was there.

12 months ago, she had been staring down a tunnel without a light at the end of it. Everything had been so close to slipping through her fingers. Her record deal, her fans, her family. Her sense of self. . . her whole entire life had almost ended 6 feet under the ground.

Now she was back with a sophomore album that had sold a record number of copies in the first week it had been out. She had been sober for a year, she was closer to her family than ever, and in a relationship with one of the sweetest boys she had ever met.

She had heard it was a bad idea to be with somebody who had been in rehab too but for her, that wasn’t the case. They held each other accountable and made sure the other got to a meeting, especially after they had a hard day. She found life with him easier in it and it was so nice to remember how far she’d come with someone who had gone through a similar experience.

Betty stepped on the platform that would raise her to the stage and took a deep breath as it started to ascend, her music queuing up, she started to sing as the audience exploded.

_“You know I was broke down, I had hit the ground. I was crying out, couldn’t make no sound. No one hears the sound of tears collecting. You know I had lost hope, I was all around. . .”_

She had borrowed the song from Kelly Clarkson’s songbook with the other singer’s permission. It had been a piece that had gotten her through the time after she had been discharged from rehab, she had wanted to record it as soon as she had gotten into the studio. Lou had made a few phone calls and by the end of the day, she had cut a version.

Kelly had written her a handwritten letter telling her how beautiful it was and wished her all the luck with her sobriety, new album, and her tour.

When she dropped “Invincible” as a single a few weeks later, it had been well-received by critics and fans alike. Taylor Swift had even posted about it on her Instagram story.

When the concert had ended and she had sang a couple of songs from her first album as an encore, she went back to her dressing room where Jughead was waiting for her, typing away at a new script on his laptop.

He smiled when he saw her come in, closing the lid, and getting up to greet her.

“You were great tonight!” he praised her as he hugged her and kissed her.

Betty glowed. “Thank you.”

“I was in the audience the whole time,” he assured her. “I came down here when you did your meet & greet.”

“You should come next time,” Betty said as she sat down and pulled her hair back in its customary ponytail, got a makeup wipe and started to clean the eyeliner and mascara away from her eyes. “I’m sure lots of girls would want to meet Jughead Jones.”

“Maybe,” Jughead replied. “But this is about you.”

“It’s about _us_ ,” Betty told him. “You are the most important person in my life now.”

“Do we have to talk about codependency? I’m sure Valerie would love to hear about _that_ ,” Jughead joked as he brushed the curl away from his forehead.

Betty laughed. “Juggie!” she chided.

“You’re actually the most important person in my life right now,” Jughead said. “Aside from my mom and sister, of course. That’s why I was wondering. . .”

Betty’s heart skipped a beat, she turned to look at him. “Jughead Jones, I swear if you ask what I think you’re going to ask like _this_ —”

“While you’re only wearing half a face of makeup and sweating after singing your heart out? I think this is exactly the right time to ask. Isn’t part of our recovery giving up that perfection we so desperately clung to?”

“Of course. . .”

“Then let me ask you the way I _want_ to ask you!” Jughead insisted as he took a box out of his leather jacket and got down on one knee. “Because when I imagined this, I didn’t imagine the perfect setting. I didn’t make any plans, I always thought that I would just wait until the right time to ask you and _this_ feels like the right time to ask you. . . if you would marry me.”

“I might be bad at marriage,” Betty answered. “I-I haven’t been very good at the things in my life so far. You know I get overwhelmed, I get so consumed with being perfect and if things don’t go perfectly like I expect them too then. . . well, you saw what happened.”

Jughead nodded. “I know. I’m like that too but we have each other and we’re both in a good place right now. I am not stupid, I know that we can both have a relapse or whatever but I want to fight it with you. Please. . . please, say we can spend the rest of our lives together. If you need to, we can talk to our therapists together. We can talk to the people in AA or go see Valerie or Susanna. Whatever it is you need to do to reassure you that this is a good idea. I already talked to a few people ”

Betty shook her head. “No. I want to marry you. I _will_ marry you. Jughead, I love you. Two years ago, last year. . . I didn’t think I would be here. I wasn’t sure I’d be anywhere, all I really cared about - even though I didn’t want to admit it even to myself at the time - was drugs. To be here, caring about something else. . . _somebody_ else, is amazing to me.”

Jughead took her hand and slipped the ring on her finger, she leaned down and kissed him, standing up with him as she did.

For the first time in a long time, for the first time in her adult life, she truly felt peaceful.

**The End**

**.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of a year long journey is at an end now. I am truly sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, for a reason I lost the desire to finish it and I didn’t want to force anything. I wanted to give you the ending you guys deserved. I hope you enjoyed this as much as you could enjoy a story about addiction and recovery. I know not everything is tied up in a neat little bow, I hoped I addressed the concerns of relapse in this final chapter. I wanted to give them a happily ever after though. So, here we are.
> 
> Until Next Time!

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a preview of something that was a Bughead Wishlist prompt. I’ve never had any experience with this kind of stuff, so I’m writing it happening off-screen. I hope you’ll tell me what you think about it, I have a lot of ideas in my head and I know the direction it’s headed in but I need to sit down and organize my thoughts. I’ll be back this weekend with the last update of “From Italy, With Love” but in the meantime I hope you’ll leave a review for this!


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